


The Gold Motel: Family Therapy

by LilDove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Angst, F/M, Fanfic of another fanfic, Mental Health Issues, alternative universe, it's a fanfic-ception, psycho-therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3635424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilDove/pseuds/LilDove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This a fanfic of The Gold Motel verse by Mrgoldsdearie, it's a fanfic-ception. I asked her if I could write a therapy scene and this was born...</p>
<p>Norman and Belle go to see Dr. Hopper for one his regular sessions....</p>
<p>(I'm not the best with summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gold Motel: Family Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrgoldsdearie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/gifts).



> I don't own OUAT nor do I own idea behind The Gold Motel verse.

“Alright Norman, I’m ready for you now.” Dr. Hopper opened the door to his office with his standard friendly smile, welcoming a very nervous Norman Gold. Belle reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling affectionately at him. They’ve only been together for almost a year and Belle has been entirely supportive of him. Since the first day he started seeing Dr. Hopper, Belle would accompany him. At the end of every session, when he stepped out of the Doctors office, Belle would always greet him with her bright smile. She would hold him, kiss him tenderly, and tell him how proud she was of him. Afterwards they would go to Granny’s for burgers, fries, and iced tea. However, for the past couple of days papa has been getting a little too vocal for comfort. Inhaling deeply, like how the good Doctor taught him, he squeezed Belle’s hand and asked if she could join them. “P-p-p-please Dr. Hopper, I-I-I really, want B-B-Belle to come with m-m-me.” Norman’s stutter sounded terribly thick and knowing how fragile the poor man was, Dr. Hopper agreed to have Belle come in. 

The office of a psycho-therapist should be comfortable, in essence it should create the sense of a safe environment. If there was a gold standard, it would be Dr. Hopper’s office. The walls were painted a warm light yellow. Vivid potted plants sat on the window sill. In front of the Doctor’s mahogany desk, was a plush brown leather couch, complete with throw pillows and flanked by two matching end tables. Always a gentleman, Norman let Belle take her seat first on the inviting couch, before taking his own seat. Just like in the waiting room, Belle clasped her hands around one of his and placed it on her lap. Briefly they shared an affection smile, “It’s alright Norman,” she squeezed his hand, “I’m right here.” 

Inhaling a huge gulp of air, he timidly looked up but was too nervous to make eye contact with his attentive therapist. “Um, well y-y-you know how p-p-papa doesn’t like B-B-Belle?” Dr. Hopper nodded in acknowledgement, discreetly getting his pen ready on his yellow legal pad. Belle scooted herself closer, wrapping her arm completely around his, “You see Doctor, this is what happened…”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cooking wasn’t entirely Belle’s strongest area, she wasn’t totally lost in a kitchen however. She was more than capable of creating simple dishes and of course following recipes. Yet every once in a while, her lifelong habit would take over and she would get lost in a good book. Thus resulting in burnt lasagnas, roasts, and that one Shepard’s pie. It was winter and Norman spent the day making sure that the heating was functioning properly in the motel. Along with the other chores that came along with maintaining the motel. Belle wanted to surprise Norman by making him a hardy *Cullen’s skink. She stayed close to the traditional Scottish recipe, but added her own touches to it. Once Norman had come home, the soup was already waiting for him, piping hot, along with a plate piled with toast. 

“Oh w-w-wow, you did this f-f-for me?” he hugged her before taking his seat, “you r-r-really didn’t have to d-d-dearie.”

“Nonsense!” Belle playfully scolded, “you’ve been working yourself entirely too hard, Norman.” She tenderly kissed him before taking her seat next to his. Norman had already started eating, stuffing his face in the way that always reminded her of a chipmunk. It was one of those little things that she found endearing about him. Not wanting to hold off her curiosity any longer, she eagerly asked what her gentle man thought.

“To be honest dearie, it tastes like a horses arse…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At this point of Belle’s retelling of what happened, Norman hung his head and began to softly weep in his free hand. “I-I-I’m so, so, sorry, B-B-Belle,” Dr. Hopper passed him a box of tissues and Belle held him rubbing his back.

“Didn’t I tell you she wasn’t any good for you, son?” the stutter in Norman’s voice was gone and he wasn’t crying anymore. He snatched his hand away from Belle and snarled nastily at her.

Doctor Hopper cleared his throat, he was anticipating this. When Norman first came to see him, he had him on a regimen of anti-psychotics for the first couple of weeks. Unfortunately Norman stopped taking them, they made him too sleepy, he said. Since then, the troubled man has been hesitant on trying any new medications. So Dr. Hopper bumped Norman’s sessions from one day a week to three days. At first Norman was resistant to the suggestion, ‘b-b-but what if w-w-we get a c-c-costumer?’ was his argument. Once Belle told explained to him how his mental health was more important than running a mostly vacant motel, he agreed to three days a week. Without being on medication Norman struggled. When Norman pushed forward, papa would manifest and pull him right back. So occurrences like this, were common.

“Mr. Gold, what is it about Belle that gets you so upset?” Dr. Hopper asked calmly, looking at him intently.

“How can I trust her to take care of my boy?” papa roared and raised his arms in the air, “she can’t even brew tea!”

“T-t-hats not true p-p-papa!” Norman shot back, tired of hearing his papa’s complaints about Belle, “it w-w-was just t-t-that one t-t-time! And s-s-she can do o-o-other things t-t-too.”

“Hah! Oh of that I’m sure son,” papa bellowed with maniacal laughter, “a pretty thing like her, I’m sure she knows plenty of things!”

“No p-p-papa, don’t s-s-say that! S-s-she's not l-l-like that!” In tears Norman covered his ears, despite knowing that it wouldn’t do any good. This time his soft weeping turned into a torrent of tears. 

Belle sighed and reached for a tissue, not for Norman but for herself. Moments like these tore her apart. Watching him struggle with this dreadful part of himself, which also wasn’t. She knew deciding to stay with Norman wouldn’t be easy. That there would be struggles just like this but that didn’t make watching him struggle easier. She draped her arm around Norman and leaned against him. It always hurt her deeply seeing him this way. 

“Ok, let’s all take a nice deep breath and count to ten,” Doctor Hopper suggested in his usual calm demeanor, together all three took deep breaths before continuing. “Now, do you feel a little better now Norman?”

“Y-y-yes.” Was Norman’s soft reply. 

“Good, that’s good,” He reached for the box of tissues and nudged them closer, “now let’s go back to the beginning, Norman. Why does papa disapprove of Belle?” his voice was soft and he kept his pen ready. 

“H-h-he says that I d-d-don’t need h-h-her,” the stutter in his voice was so choked with sobs that it was proving to be a challenge for him to speak. Belle was stroking his hair, curling it in a dainty finger, and rubbing his upper arm with her other hand. 

“But that’s not how you feel, is it Norman?” she softly cooed. 

“N-n-no, you m-m-make me happy,” and for the first time since the start of the session, his face lit up with the sweetest of smiles. The same smile he gave her every day since she agreed to live with him. 

Instantly his eyes clouded with rage and he untangled himself from Belle’s embrace. The tranquil moment was shattered too soon. “Come off it son, you know she’s only good for…” 

Doctor Hopper quickly intervened before Mr. Gold could spew anymore verbal abuse about Belle. “Mr. Gold, you don’t think you’re son is entitled to happiness?”

The expression on Norman’s face contorted to one of aggressive bewilderment, “What kind of fucking question is that? Aye, I want me son to be happy! I’m his happiness!” In a fit of anger he slammed his hand against the end table next to the couch. Hopper jumped slightly in his chair, taken completely by surprise.

“Mr. Gold please, I’m going to have to ask you to relax,” the slightly startled Doctor took a deep breath before continuing. “What I mean by that is, doesn’t it matter to you that Belle makes your son happy? And that she clearly cares for him too?” He rested his hand on his chin, with a quizzical look on his face. “And I also can’t help but wonder that there’s more to this than culinary mishaps.”

Robert sighed, sinking into the couch, “sure she makes him happy now, but how long will that last eh? What will happen to my boy once she breaks his heart? He’s always been so sensitive, since he was a wee one.”

“But Norman isn’t a little boy anymore, he’s a grown man.” Belle shot back.

“Quiet you cow, no one asked for your opinion!” Robert snarled in response. 

“Mr. Gold,” Doctor Hopper said with a tinge of frustration in his voice, “would it truly be so terrible to let go of your son?”

“He can’t survive without me.” Robert answered nonchalantly. 

“How would you know? You have total control over him!” Belle’s temper flared but she tried to keep her voice steady, “you’ve never given him a chance to live like an adult!”

Robert raised his hand ready to strike, “You mouthy little tramp!”

“P-p-papa no! I-I-I won’t l-l-let you hit B-B-Belle!” Norman leaned towards Belle, holding her while his body shook with tears. She rubbed his back and murmured comforting words, as he kept apologizing to her. “Y-y-you know I-I-I would n-n-never hurt you d-d-dearie,” he softly sobbed in her ear. 

“I know Norman, I know you would never hurt me.” Belle then tenderly kissed his tear streaked cheek. Both were snapped back out of their bubble, by the sound of Doctor Hopper clearing his throat again. 

“Mr. Gold, just look at what you’re doing to your son? Can’t you see that you’re hurting him by hurting someone he cherishes?” Doctor Hopper placed his legal pad and pen on the desk, he leaned forward on his chair and clasped his hands in front of himself. “I think it’s about time you gave Belle a chance. From what Norman tells me, she’s more than capable of taking care of him. Has it occurred to you that maybe Norman, prefers Belle’s company than yours?” 

A heavy silence descended in the room, it was obvious from Norman’s body language that Robert hadn’t fully gone away. There was a faraway expression on his face and his jaw was clenched. Belle anxiously nibbled on her lip. She knew how volatile Robert could be, it was such a stark contrast to Norman’s sweetness. The silence was beginning to be too much for her to handle, “Please…please say something,” she spoke to no one in particular.

“Fine,” Robert growled and then turned towards Belle, “but if you hurt my son just once…”

“Mr. Gold, that’s quite enough, thank you.” Doctor Hopper leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. “You made the right choice Mr. Gold.” He nodded approvingly. 

After that the session had gone more smoothly, Papa/Robert didn’t make another appearance. In that time, Dr. Hopper talked to Norman about the importance of identifying stress triggers and alternative ways to coping with said stress. The whole time Belle held his hand and smiled at him, despite the tears threatening to spill. He promised her that he’ll try harder at blocking papa and that he’ll tell her when he’s having an off day.

They left the office hand in hand, Belle beamed and told him how proud she was of him. It was an intense session and they were both relieved that it was over. “Th-th-thank you d-d-dearie,” Norman said softly as he opened the door for her to step out of the building. 

Belle gave him an amused lopsided smirk, “For what?”

“F-f-for coming in w-w-with me,” he smiled warmly at her.

“Oh you silly man, you don’t have to thank me for that!” She playfully swatted his shoulder, “I told you from the beginning, I want to help you and if you want me, to go with you to ever session then I will. Now let’s go to Granny’s, my treat!” In comfortable silence they walked to the car, waiting for them at the curb.

“Oh and B-B-Belle?” Norman paused while opening the passenger door for Belle.

“Yes?” She asked curiously.

“I-I-I liked your C-C-Cullen’s skink,” He gave her a shy toothy grin, “b-b-but next time I’ll m-m-make the Shepard’s pie.” Belle playfully swatted his shoulder again before wrapping her arms around him and holding him like she would never let him go. 

**Author's Note:**

> *Cullen's skink-is a traditional Northern Scottish soup, also known as haddock chowder.


End file.
